Howling at the Moon
by animalrie
Summary: You've heard Bella's story, you'll heard Edward's, now it's Claire's turn.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of Stephanie Meyer's characters. **

I tapped my fingers impatiently on the dashboard, staring out the window. I was a little irked that my mom wouldn't let me drive, but the knowledge of where we were going smothered that feeling. I groaned let my head fall back against the seat. Green, green, and more green. The colors brown, and more importantly, blue, seemed to be foreign to this wet, moldy, rainy place. La Push.

"Your father and I are going to miss you so much, honey," my mom gushed. Her eyes were watery as she swatted at the stereo, turning the music down.

"You and dad hardly talk, mom," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. She had moved out, dragging me with her, when I was seven. I didn't really miss my dad, I had hardly seen him, anyway. That summer had been the second time I had gone to La Push. I didn't miss anything about it. Of course, at the time, anything beat the constant yelling at home.

"You know, I think I'm going to move back in with your dad while you're gone," my mom continued, swerving around a fallen tree. Lies. It must be the nerves getting to her. I think my mom felt somewhat guilty about dumping me off at Emily's place for the first time in nine years. She wanted to assure me that things would be fine back at home. Yeah right. Things hadn't been fine since we had left.

_WELCOME TO LA PUSH! _The flashy sign made me grind my teeth together. My mom sighed. "You'll have fun. What were your little friend's names? Josh? Will?"

"Jake and Quil, mom," I mumbled incoherently. "Plus, they're probably gone. They're both thirty now."

"Huh? Oh yeah," my mom turned the music back up, singing along with a song. "That's odd, I seem to remember them being there when you went when you were two."

I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the cold window. "Yeah…" My mom was probably just trying to distract me, but it wouldn't work. I felt her truck screech to a stop. "Hi Emily!" I heard her get out of the car. I didn't move.

"Look at you, Claire, you're so big!" There seemed to be a different meaning behind her seemingly harmless words. I finally forced my eyes open and hopped out of the car. I lugged my duffel bag from the truck bed and slung it over my arm.

When I rounded the side of the car, my mom had tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her hair was in a red frizzy mess and her cheeks were splotched with red. "Don't give your aunt any trouble," she choked out, pulling me into a tight hug. I sighed and hugged her back.

"Don't worry about me, mom," I whispered into her ear. I pulled away from her arms and walked to stand beside Emily. My mom looked unsure for a moment as she unwillingly climbed back into the truck. "I love you, honey!" she called. I waved to her as she pulling out of the dirt driveway and sped back down the road.

Emily and I watched her go until she rounded a bend, and then my aunt turned to me, "It's just us for today, the boys are out," she started walking toward the house, picking up my bag on the way. "Wait, what _boys_?" I asked. I ran after her and opened the door. The mouthwatering scent of lunch wafted from the kitchen.

Emily laughed, "You remember Quil?" she turned to me as if the fate of the world depended on my answer.

"Uh…yes? And Jacob, and Embry. But shouldn't they be…gone?"

Emily carried my bag to a familiar room, the guest room. The walls were a light shade of blue, and the wood floor was dark and worn. Heavy brown curtains were draped around the window, letting in a dull, gray light that was signature of La Push. The bed sheets were blue, matching the wall.

"They're still here," Emily answered my question reluctantly. She dropped my duffel bag on the bed, which creaked with the weight. She glanced up at me, her brown eyes sparkling. "Let's get you some lunch before they come back," she suggested brightly, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Um…okay," I agreed, unsure whether I should push the issue. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen. Pots full of boiling water and vegetables filled up every burner on the stove. A full platter of sandwiches took up most of the table. A bowl, well, more like cauldron, of fruit sat on the counter. The food was enough to feed fifty people, how many _boys _were there, anyway?

Emily giggled at my expression. "They have big appetites," she seemed to agree with me.

"Um…how many of them are there, anyway?" I questioned. My head was spinning with the delicious scents all around me. Emily handed me a chipped blue plate. I began filling it up.

"Fourteen," she answered, busying herself with setting plates and napkins on the tiny table. I was shocked by her answer. "Wow…" I mumbled, taking a bite of my sandwich. She sat across the table from me.

I ate in silence, staring at the wood grains on the table. "Here they come," Emily murmured. I looked out the window, but couldn't see anyone. I shrugged and went back to my food. A moment later, laughter and stomping filled up the house. My eyes widened at the crowd that had just squished into the tiny house.

"Hey, Em!" A booming voice laughed. Emily glanced at me apologetically. "Hey, Embry," she answered. From what I could tell, only five of them were here. Where were all of the others?

"Boys, Claire's here," Emily announced. Where before there had been laughter and conversation, silence filled up the kitchen. All eyes turned to me, and through the crowd, a giant man pushed his way out.

His eyes bore into me, filled with some emotion I couldn't comprehend. A huge grin spread across his face. "Welcome back, Claire," he spoke gently, carefully. "Hi, Quil," I breathed.

**Hope you all liked! Review! Review! Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow and won't be able to update **_**Howling at the Moon**_** for a week. Sorry, guys! I'll try to post another chapter this afternoon. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope you like this chapter! Please review to tell me what you think!**

I pulled out the last article of clothing from my bag. For some reason, I had the urge to hold it and stare down at each and every carefully knit stitch in the forest green fabric. The material seemed to weave in and out of itself, all in perfect symmetry. I ran my fingers over the flaws I had memorized in the sweater. The uneven neck line, and the stretched out left sleeve that measured almost two inches longer than the right. I laughed at myself for noticing these insignificant details, but they were familiar, unlike La Push.

I glanced up at the window, where I could see that the rain had become one continuous sheet, giving up on the individual raindrops that had snapped against the roof starting right after dinner. The rain didn't seem to bother any of "the boys". In fact, they took off after leaving Emily clean of all of her food, half dressed, into the downpour. It was a miracle they didn't get hypothermia.

I hung up the sweater next to multiple raincoats that Emily had taken the honor of buying for me. A groan escaped my lips when I realized I would be wearing these the majority of my summer. I closed my eyes and imagined spending the warm summer months at a beach with my friends, causing a smile to tug at my lips, but when I opened my eyes again, all I could see was rain. Rain, rain, and more rain.

"Knock, knock," Emily's cheery voice interrupted my thoughts. "Can I come in?"

I sighed, "Sure."

Emily opened the door carefully, glancing around the room. "You unpacked fast," she mentioned.

I shoved the bag under the bed with a grunt. "I didn't bring much."

"I hope you brought a swimsuit," leave it to her to make jokes. But I glanced up and her face was completely serious. I flashed my aunt a disbelieving look.

"Oh, come on, Claire! There's more to do in La Push than just sit around and mope," Emily sat down on my bed, pulling me down with her and wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "We _do _have a beach."

I recalled seeing the ocean on the way here. But for some reason, a rocky scrap of land littered with driftwood next to below freezing water didn't trigger the word _beach _in my mind.

"Quil was hoping to give you a tour, too," Emily added nonchalantly.

Quil. Ever since I had seen him again, something had been pulling at the edges of my mind, urging me to remember some long-forgotten fact, or perhaps something I hadn't discovered yet. It was queer that he hadn't seemed to age in what, seven years? And for some odd reason, this fact didn't bother me. When I asked Emily about it, she had ever so mysteriously replied, "You'll find out soon enough." In fact, since I had come here, everyone was acting so cryptic. Why should they be keeping something from me in the first place? It just wasn't fair!

"Claire, are you even listening to me?" Emily's annoyance brought me back to reality.

"Oh…uh, did you say something?" I felt a faint blush creep up my cheeks, but I hoped my dark skin would hide it.

Emily smiled, the one side of her face unmarred pulling up into a gentle grin. That was something else I never knew about. When I asked about her…injury, all I had gotten out of her was something about a bear. "I said that Quil was going to pick you up at eight. He's going to show you the town."

I felt my heart go into overdrive. "Wh-wha…what did you say?"

Emily pat my back and stood up. "I said that Quil is going to be her in a half hour to pick you up." With that, she was gone. She'd better not think she got away without me seeing that smirk on her face.

I jumped off of my bed and ran to my closet. I didn't know why I suddenly cared so much about the way I looked; I'd never given a second thought about it before. But suddenly, the crumpled traveling attire I'd been wearing all day wasn't suitable. I pulled out a pair of jeans and my green sweater that I had been eyeing so carefully just moments ago. I pulled these on and deposited my dirty clothes in the tiny bathroom that connected to my room. I would not have to be sharing that part of the house with Emily and Sam.

I threw my hair into a messy ponytail, deciding that the second I got out in the rain, my hair would be a lost cause anyway. Thirty minutes later, I was picking up my raincoat and heading for the door.

Emily watched me wait by the front door, a smug smile on her face and a mug of coffee in her hands. I tried to ignore her, but failed miserably.

"Why do you look so happy?" I whipped around, surprising her.

Emily smiled, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh, no reason," she murmured.

I groaned in exasperation. "Why do you keep saying that? There has to be some reason why I feel like I'm missing out on some inside joke that you and…and the whole lot of them find to be so funny!"

Emily cocked her head to the side. "We're not making fun of you, sweetie." She seemed upset.

"Maybe Quil will tell me," I hissed, though I doubted he would, whatever it was. In fact, Quil seemed to be just as much out of the loop as I was, and a little frustrated.

Emily nodded knowingly, like a physiatrist dealing with an exceptionally bothered patient. "I'm sure he will," was all she said. She motioned to the door and I saw Quil climbing up the steps to the house.

I flung open the door, a little too eagerly perhaps, which earned a giggle from my aunt, and stepped outside, happy to be away from her little cryptic remarks and sarcasm.

"Hey," Quil seemed to be fighting back laughter.

"Laugh all you want," I growled, stomping toward his car. "I'm used to it."

Quil chucked behind me and rushed ahead of me to open the passenger door. "I'm not laughing at you," he assured me. "I'm laughing at the situation."

I didn't know what that meant, nor did I particularly want to know. "Where are we going?" I might as well know our plans for tonight.

Quil buckled his seatbelt and started the car. "I thought you should see La Push, since it's your first day here and all."

I couldn't argue with that reasoning, though I had to admit, I had hoped we would do something a little more exciting. I slouched back into the seat, awaiting my torture.

We sat in companionable silence for a while. Though I had only met Quil (well, this time around) a few hours before, it felt like we knew so much about each other already. I didn't know how long this silence lasted, but long enough for me to realize that this so-called "tour" wasn't very informative. I glanced at the clock. 9:18 flashed back at me.

"Do you want to have a picnic on the beach?" Okay, so that was random. Why would Quil ask me that anyway? I glanced out my window. Surprisingly enough, the rain had stopped. Maybe it was La Push tradition to go to the beach on those rare occasions when the rain let up, even if it was at nine pm.

"Sure," I agreed. This should be more interesting than sitting in a car in silence. Quil turned off the road and shut the car off. He hopped out of the vehicle (and seeing someone as big as Quil _hop _is quite amusing) and proceeded to take picnic supplies from the trunk, complete with a blanket and basket. So this hadn't been totally unplanned. I wondered what would have happened if the rain _hadn't _let up.

We wandered down a rocky path until I could hear the lap of water on pebbles. I stepped out of the brush with a gasp.

I had always thought of La Push as dreary. The rain making it even more so, and all of the vegetation just a squishy addition to the bore that was the Olympic Peninsula. I had never considered any part of it beautiful in any way, but now here I stood, against all odds, completely in awe.

The earlier storm had washed away the grime of the sea from the pebbles that covered the beach, making them shimmer. A large driftwood branch protruded from the soil, glowing white in the moonlight, not the dull brown it would be in daylight. The ocean washed gently up onto the rocks and tugged them back down with it as it receded into itself. The full moon was reflected perfectly on it's surface, revealing the deep blue, turquoise, and ivory colors that I never knew the ocean possessed.

"Do you like it?" Quil asked, concerned.

I was speechless. I glanced up at him, and whatever expression was stuck on my face obviously reassured him. His laugh was deep and warm, reminding me-oddly enough-of the giant trees we had passed on the way to La Push. Their regality had escaped me before, but listening to Quil's laugh, I gained a new respect for them. The rumble deep inside of his chest was their trunk, sturdy and solid and warm. But the noise branched out, making my chest tingle with warmth.

I leaned back on the blanket as Quil pulled desert from the basket. We each had a brownie, home-baked he informed me, and ate staring up at the stars.

I didn't want to ruin the moment, but a question had been nagging at me since I'd stepped in the car with him. I sighed, giving up on fighting it back, which caused Quil to look at me curiously. "Um…Quil, will you answer something for me?"

"Sure," Quil nodded, straightening up and leaning toward me. "Shoot."

I looked at the ocean, it's constant motion never failing to mesmerize me. "How…" I sighed. "How old are you?"

This silence wasn't comfortable. It was the kind of silence that made you fidget and blurt out apologies just to escape from the guilt that it thrust upon you.

Quil looked at me in the eyes, those deep brown orbs making me gulp. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Stephanie Meyer's work. I hope this chapter didn't repeat itself too much. Tell me what you think by reviewing!**

I stared at Quil's face, the moonlight giving him an eerie shadow across one side. His age was one of the more pressing issues that I had come up with, and I had a silent hope that the answer would unravel the secret that had been eluding me all day. What he said next would hopefully help me understand what Emily was trying to keep from me.

But Quil didn't seem to eager to let me know. His lips curved down into a scowl and his eyebrows furrowed. My patience dwindled until I finally gave up, letting out a huff of annoyance. Quil's gaze shot up to my face and his expression changed from troubled to amused within a second.

"They don't want me to tell you," he laughed, almost as if he were talking to himself. I felt the angry set to my mouth as I glared up at him.

"Who's _they_?"

Quil shrugged it off, ignoring my question. "Do you have a dog, Claire?"

I narrowed my eyes, "Stop trying to distract me."

Quil's laugh was boisterous. "It's completely relevant," he assured me.

Liar. How could my pet history pertain to his age of all things? He was definitely trying to get me off subject, but that wouldn't prove easy to do. "If I answer this for you, will you answer a question for me?" I doubted I could trap him this easily, especially since I didn't know what questions to ask.

Quil shrugged good-naturedly.

"No, I don't have a dog," I said matter-of-factly. "My turn."

Quil held up both hands. "Whoa, that hardly counts as a question."

I rolled my eyes. "And why not?"

"Because we started the game after I asked you my question," Quil grinned.

I scowled. So he thought it was a game. Maybe it would be better if he thought of it that way, that might make it easier to get my questions answered. "Fine," I replied bitterly.

Quil stuck a finger to his chin, mocking deep concentration. Finally, he looked back in my eyes. "Do you like La Push?" Great, just the question I was wanting.

I decided to answer truthfully and as quickly as possible. "No."

"Why?"

"No way, that counts as two questions!" I wouldn't let him cheat at my game.

Quil sighed. "Okay, so what's your question?"

I looked up at the sky, trying to think of one of the more important questions. I decided to go with the same one I had asked earlier. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

I started. Was he being serious? Sixteen! That couldn't be possible. He had been at least twenty when I had last seen him. Then again, he and all of his friends were pretty big. But he should be thirty or older. Quil seemed to recognize the bewilderment plastered on my face, because he quickly covered up his answer with a question for me, "Do you play any sports?"

I sighed, letting my head settle in my hands. "Not really." I decided that arguing about his answer wasn't going to get me anywhere. I looked up at him. "What's been going on? What secret has everyone been keeping from me?" There's one way to get an answer, just blurt my question out there.

Quil's head shot up and he looked around apprehensively. He shut his eyes tight and I noticed his hands were balled into shaking fists.

"Quil? Quil, are you okay?" His whole body was shaking now, rocking him back and forth.

"I can't believe you _followed _me, Jacob! Just because you didn't get your-" suddenly, Quil stopped. He glared at me. "I think you should leave, Claire," he hissed through clenched jaws.

Fear coursed through me, but behind that, anger. He brought me all the way out here, just to start yelling at nobody. He was probably trying to make me go even crazier with the suspense of their secret. And why did he say Jacob's name?

I stood up stiffly, my mouth shut tightly and my head hot with anger. It was unreasonable, I knew that, but my rational thoughts were blotted out with the irrational ones. I considered throwing one of the many pebbles were on the ground, but decided against it. Without a word, and dashed up the uneven path back to Quil's car.

My anger flared as I realized he meant for me to _walk _home! Now I wished I had chosen to throw the rock at him. The reasonable thing to do would be to wait until Quil's anger ran out and he came back to his car to drive me home. Reasonable didn't describe me lately. Without thinking about it, I stomped in the direction I _thought _was Emily's house. I hadn't been paying much attention when we drove up here, too consumed in my thoughts of what events would unfold throughout the night. I hadn't guessed that stomping through the rain would be my night activity.

The moon and the light it provided had been consumed by a giant storm cloud. The light drizzle that had begun soon after I started my trek quickly turned into a fierce thunderstorm.

My anger supplied enough energy for me to walk longer than I would have been able to normally. I looked down at my watch, which read 11:53. I had been walking for almost two hours. I looked around, but whether from the storm or from my lack of attention, I had no idea where I was. None of this looked familiar, and when I turned around, I realized I was surrounded by only squishy green foliage.

A new kind of fear ran cold through my veins. I was lost, utterly and completely lost. I had seen these forests on my drive to La Push, and knew that they weren't just little man-made parks set up for toddlers to romp in. This were fierce, untamed wilderness.

I sat down on the ground, burying my head in my hands and grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the rainwater seeping into my pants. I tried to think logically. If I had been gone for two hours, and Quil actually came looking for me (which I desperately hoped was true), then he probably gave up about an hour ago and called the police.

I tried to get my bearings, trying to guess how far I was away from civilization. I considered continuing to walk and look for the highway, a town, or something, but I knew this would only get me deeper into the trees. If my logic was correct and the police had been looking for me for an hour, then I assumed I had a good two or three hours until I would be found. That is, if I was lucky. And luck didn't seem to be on my side.

I sat at the base of a tree, wallowing in regret and remorse. If I had been thinking straight, I would have at least stayed on the street, where I would have been found by Quil. I kept glancing at my watch. 12:09, 12:14, 12:20. The minutes ticked away painfully slow, and soon I was drenched, soaked to my bones. I shivered involuntarily and a new problem revealed. it's ugly face. What if I caught hypothermia. I fleetingly remembered wondering how Quil and his friends had avoided it in the downpour, and now I faced it as a real problem.

Tears began to trickle down my face, mixing with the rain until I couldn't see a foot in front of me. Complete despair enveloped me. "I'm never going to get out of here!" I sobbed.

Suddenly, I felt a freezing cold hand touch my shoulder. I whipped around, wiping my eyes of tears and rain. I found myself looking into the face of the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. "Lost?" His angelic voice made all of my fear go away. A tiny spark of hope ignited inside me.

And then, I heard the snarling.


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own any of Stephanie Meyer's work, not in this chapter or any others. **

**SPOILER WARNING AHEAD!**

**This chapter has some slight Breaking Dawn spoilers including Bella's power and her vampiriness (is that even a word? Microsoft doesn't think so…) However, Renesmee is not included. **

**I've re-written this a couple of times, hoping to get it right. Tell me if I've done okay!**

I stumbled backwards, bumping against a tree. The snarling continued, until it smothered any other noise, as loud as thunder. I felt my heart hammering against my chest, threatening to beat it's way out. Without warning, a huge wolf leapt from the trees, growls ripping from it's chest.

From behind me, the pale creature that had found me stepped forward, his jaw hard and his eyes cold. "I didn't touch her," he held up his hands, proving that he hadn't harmed me, I supposed. "But if you don't calm down, you'll be the one to hurt her."

The growling intensified, making the forest vibrate with the noise. My rescuer stepped directly in front of me, shielding me from the creature. He was crouching, looking less and less human every second. A feral snarl escaped the man's lips, and I gasped, falling to the ground beneath the tree.

He whipped around, his gaze sweeping over me. From the corner of my eye, I caught the movement that would surely kill me. The giant brown wolf sprung, aiming directly at me. I shut my eyes tight, preparing for the blow that would end my life.

And then, I was moving. I opened my eyes to see what was around me, but it was all a blur. Green and black, swirling together until the colors around me were nonsense. I felt stone arms around my body and looked up to see the same man, his eyes focused on the forest in front of him. He was running. My head lolled back, and darkness clouded my vision, surrounded the edges of my sight like a piece of paper burning.

And then, the world went dark.

* * *

"…couldn't be the Volturi. Not yet."

Soft voices filled my ears, their musical quality relaxing me. I opened my eyes and found myself looking into a pair of topaz orbs not more than a few inches from mine. A small girl lifted her head from where she was gazing at me. "She's awake."

I groaned, my hand flying to my forehead. I felt disoriented and there was a constant drumming in my ears. I saw a hand hover over my forehead, and I could feel the cold from it on my skin, though the hand wasn't even touching me.

"She's not running a fever," surprise colored the voice, as if the speaker _expected _me to be warmer than normal.

I lifted myself up, supporting my weight on my arms, and looked around the room. A dim light revealed the faces of eight people. Four men and four women. I recognized the man who had rescued me from the wolf on the other side of the room, his eyes shut tightly and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His other arm was wrapped around the waist a woman.

Her impeccable beauty knocked me breathless. Dark brown hair flowed uninterrupted to her waist, settling in pools at her shoulders. Her delicate eyebrows were furrowed, a look of deep concentration on her face. Her eyes were golden, matching every other person's in the room. Her pale skin was similar to theirs as well. She was angled slightly toward the man beside her and she seemed to be talking to him. Her lips were moving too fast for me to catch any part of what she was saying.

"Would you _please _stop blocking her from me, Bella?" His frustration made my rescuer's voice louder. The woman shook her head, looking down at her feet. "She deserves at least this much." Their words were nonsense.

I scanned the rest of the room quickly, shocked at the similarity between each person. They all shared the same ivory skin and topaz eyes. And they were all extraordinarily beautiful.

A woman stepped forward cautiously and sat down on the side of the couch I was on. "How are you feeling, honey?" she murmured, her voice soothing. Her motherly tone matched her features. Soft and less angular than the rest of them. Caramel colored hair fell off her shoulders.

"Don't worry, we don't bite," a huge man laughed heartily. The woman standing beside him, who looked like she should be on a runway more than anywhere else, shot a glare at him and he shut up. I felt as if I was missing out on some inside joke that only one person in the room thought was funny.

"I-I'm fine," I assured the woman, not sure if I was lying or not.

She accepted my answer. "Claire, my name is Esme Cullen. This is my family." She spread her arms, motioning around the room. "This is my husband, Carlisle." A blond man, who looked no older than twenty, nodded in greeting.

Esme continued through the room, pointing to each and every person. "Jasper, Alice, Emmet, and Rosalie are all my adopted children."

I was speechless, their beauty still astounded me. I noticed that she hadn't named the man who had saved me, nor the woman beside him. I glanced at those two, and realized they were no longer there. Esme followed my gaze and sighed.

"They'll be back soon," she assured me.

"Who are they?" I whispered, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke at a normal level.

Esme ran a hand through her hair, her eyes softening as she looked back to me. "Their names are Edward and Bella."

I wondered why she hadn't mentioned them before, but decided not to ask. My thoughts shifted to why I was here, and the night's events flooded back to me. I groaned, falling back onto the couch. "What happened?" I whispered, unsure whether I wanted to know the answer.

They all turned to Carlisle, relying on him to answer my question. "Edward found you in the forest, but apparently, he wasn't the only one looking."

I was confused by his words. Was it the wolf? Was Quil looking for me, too? Did they meet? I tried not to come up with too many reasons why I wasn't with Quil right now if he and Edward had met. "I don't understand," I muttered, embarrassed.

"She doesn't know, Carlisle," I turned to the voice from the staircase. Edward was walking toward us, a troubled look on his face. I turned my attention back to Carlisle, who seemed surprised to say the least.

"What _does _she know?" Rosalie hissed from the other side of the room. She didn't look to me for an answer, but Carlisle did.

I shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Esme pat my back reassuringly. "Let her rest," she ordered the room of her "children". I sighed with relief, not realizing before how much the conversation had worn on me.

* * *

I was walking through the forest, sunlight streaming down from the canopy. I think I knew I was dreaming somewhere in my mind, but the absolute silence still frightened me. Suddenly, I heard the snap of a branch and turned to see Quil running toward me.

All of my anger with him forgotten, I ran to him, too. Just before I reached him, a giant wolf jumped out of the shadows.

"Quil! Watch out!" I screamed. He seemed unconcerned and continued to run toward me. I tried to scream as the wolf lunged at him, but no noise escaped my throat.

When the wolf reached him, Quil disappeared. I fell to the ground at the look that appeared in the wolf's eyes. I'd seen that look before. The animal dipped it's head and padded toward me. It's lips stretched up into what looked like a smile. I recognized that expression, too.

"Quil?"

* * *

"Claire?" I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar voice. The auburn haired vampire that had disappeared earlier today was standing in front of me. I could barely see her, only the light flooding in from another room revealed her form. I glanced to the giant window I had noticed yesterday and gasped when I saw it was gone, replaced by a metal wall that looked like it could withstand anything. I decided to ignore that detail for now, focusing on why she was waking me up so early. Or why she wasn't sleeping for that matter.

"What time is it?" I murmured, rubbing my eyes.

"Two oh eight," she replied matter-of-factly, leaning closer to me. "Can I ask you a question?"

There were a million questions I was dying to ask her, but her question must have been more important than mine if she woke up at two a.m. to ask me. "Sure…"

"Well, firstly, I'm Bella," she offered me her hand but I automatically shied away from it. She didn't seem concerned. "Surely Jacob has said something about me…" she seemed to be talking to herself, and even if her words _had _made since, I wouldn't have interrupted.

"You do know Jacob, right?" She asked timidly.

"Yeah, I know him," I propped myself up on the couch. "Listen, Bella. I really wish I could help you, but honestly, I haven't been to the reservation since I was seven. I don't know what you've been talking about, I just want to go home." _I think._

"Oh, right," Bella replied, snapping out of her thoughts. "Well, there's been a…complication." She suddenly seemed very nervous, the emotion looking out of place on her beautiful features.

"What kind of complication?" I persisted.

"How much do you know about Quiluete legends?"

I shrugged. "Not much, I guess."

Bella sighed, sitting down on the couch beside me. "You may want to get comfortable. This is going to take a while."

**Is Bella going to tell Claire about the wolves? What about the vampires? Please review!**


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